Jumping Flaming Hoops
by Kuroetai
Summary: My name is Jo'Rawlith, and apparently I'm the only competent being in all Cyrodiil. No one else could possibly help out around here, oh no. Need something done? Just come to me. That's what everyone else does. It's like I'm always jumping flaming hoops...
1. Chapter 1 Oh Sure, I Must be a Thief

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is the sole property of Bethesda and other companies associated with The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. Ha, now no one can sue me! Anything else, however, is mine, so kindly leave it that way.

Author's Note: Yeah, yeah, yeah, ANOTHER literary version of Oblivion, like we haven't seen enough of those. However, this one is more of a parody, or so I tried to make it. After beating the main quest and most of the side quests, I have found enjoyment in making new characters to experiment with classes. The one snag with this, however, is the annoying beginning, which I nearly know by heart, so I finally decided to take out my annoyance in a lengthy rant in story form. So, without further ado, here it is:

**Chapter 1**

_Oh Sure, I **Must** be a Thief_

I woke up with a crick in my neck and a cramp in my tail this morning without the slightest clue as to why I was in so much pain. Then I looked around and found it in a quick hurry. I had fallen asleep on some slab of rock with a sparse sprinkling of straw. That would cause _anyone_ a fair amount of pain.

Groaning, I scraped myself up off the rock and stood up to look around the dim little squat I now found myself in this morning. Then I realized I couldn't see a thing. So I raised my hand, muttered some words, and activated my so loved Night-Eye ability. I realized at this point how much I loved being a Khajiit.

Anyways, as the night-eye took affect, I glanced around at my surroundings, and the memories finally took priority in my mind. _That's right!_ _I'm in the rat-infested Imperial pig-owned prison!_ Joy to all. Of course, I couldn't for the life of me remember what I had done. Insert nervous cough here. It was at this point that I imagined that the imaginary audience listening to my miserable tale all looked at me suspiciously. What? It wasn't _my fault_ my arrow _might_ have hit the wrong target…

Allow me to introduce myself to you, oh wonderful imaginary audience. My name is Jo'Rawlith, female Khajiit and former Witchhunter of Elsweyr, and a mere visitor to the province of Cyrodiil. The Imperial City Prison just _had_ to be my first stop on my tour of the area.

'Course, none of that mattered now. Now was my first wonderfully full day here. I decided at this point to take a look around at the other unlucky souls I would be sharing my time with, so I walked up to the bar door to my cell and glanced around. I could see all of one cell. And lo and behold that cell belonged to the most annoying Dunmer in all Tamriel.

"Wake up, kitty kitty," he says in this whiny 'I've been in here far too long to still have my sanity' voice. Yeah, Dunmer, I'm already awake. That's why I'm standing here staring at you. Last I checked, I didn't sleep-walk. Or sleep-stare.

"That's it. There's a rat in my cell, Khajiit," oh, lovely, your typical 'I'm going to stereotype every race except my own' mer. What a wonderful time this would be.

"A fat, tasty rat," my mouth waters at the thought. Not.

"Does the kitty want it? Is the kitty hungry?" I'd eat a dark elf before I ate a rat.

"You'd better take whatever you can get in here, Khajiit. They don't feed the new prisoners," Never mind, I take it back; I'd hate for someone to actually take me seriously on that one.

"Didn't you know that? First they starve you. Then they beat you. Then, if you're lucky, they kill you. That's right. You're going to die in here!"

You know, is it just me, or does it seem like this guy has practiced this little speech of his? I mean, I probably would have interrupted him earlier and cursed him out in Ta'Agra, except he sounded like if I derailed his little speech he might have a heart-attack. Though I guess that when you have all hours of the day staring at four walls of solid stone for a life, the only interest you can find is to come up with speeches on the off chance another person will get thrown into this place. Hey, who knows, maybe after ol' white-hair here keels over dead, I'll have a speech for the next poor soul to take his place.

For now, my glorious speech-writing would have to wait, for my attention was drawn to the racket further in the prison just as my night-eye ability ended. Wonderful, now, in addition to the sound of armored footsteps, slamming doors, and steadily approaching voices, it was dark. Sure, I could cast it again, but I was too lazy for that. After all, I _am_ a cat, aren't I?

"You hear that? The guards are coming, for you!" At this, the Dunmer laughed some idiotic 'I'm trying to be maniacal but failing miserably at it' laugh and ran to hide further in his cell.

Well, I got nothing better to do, so as the sounds approached, I walked up to the gate door of my cell and leaned casually on it, reaching my arms through and resting them on the cold metal of one of the horizontal support bars, to get a closer look at the outside world of the prison. Now the voices were close enough I could make out the conversation with my nice pointy cat ears. This time I didn't even have time to be thankful for being a Khajiit before my attention shifted.

"My sons, they're dead, aren't they?" that came from an old male, or so the voice insinuated. Didn't seem like a guard to me; no guards I'd met were as old as this one sounded, nor did they talk about their sons being dead.

"We don't know that, sire. The messenger only said they were attacked," younger voice this time, and most definitely female. There was a tone of authority to her voice; this one definitely sounded more guard-ish.

"No, they're dead. I know it," back to the first voice as a guard decked out in some fancy armor strode up to my cell. I could've sworn I heard the Dunmer snicker in his cell, but it was hard to tell.

"My job right now is to get you to safety," back to the female voice as its owner came into view and also stopped in front of my cell. What? Safety? In a _prison_? Is she mad?

My golden eyes flicked between the three figures as a third joined the cluster in front of my cell. This one looked to be the owner of the first voice: some old guy in clothes even nobles probably couldn't afford. I took a quick glance at the sack cloth clothes I was wearing. Wow, opposite sides of the spectrum there.

"What's this prisoner doing in here?! This cell is supposed to be off-limits!" The female guard again, finally noticing that I was still leaning very casually against my cell door watching all of them. Gee, I wonder what a prisoner was doing in a prison cell. I don't know, maybe quietly serving my sentence? I considered actually _saying_ this, but a glance at their pretty guard armor and nice swords sealed my mouth.

"Usual mix up with the watch—I..." this was the first guard that had stopped in front of my cell. Definitely lower ranking than the female guard, judging by the way he stuttered.

"Never mind. Get that gate open," female guard again. What? You mean the gate I'm _still_ leaning on? I pulled my arms back into my cell and took my weight off the gate. Hey, if they wanted to open the gate, I wasn't about to stop 'em.

"Stand back prisoner! We won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way!" this was addressed to me, and in response to the threat, I did my best imitation of a lioness warning you away from her food. That is, I bared my fangs and hissed at the female guard. It didn't seem to faze her at all. Drat.

"You, prisoner, stand aside! Over by the window! Stay out of our way and you won't get hurt!" This was the other guard. I turned my hiss to him. What? It wasn't like they'd actually _kill_ a prisoner. They'd probably have a heck load of paper work to deal with later, and these guard types always avoid paper work.

"Prisoner! Stand over by the window, _now_!" when I still didn't move, the guard glanced back at his superior, and she gave a slight shake of her head. See? They're going to avoid that paper work any way they can. And I was taking advantage of what was likely going to be my only excitement in quite some time.

The male guard repeated his order, and when I still didn't move, the female guard finally took command, drawing her sword, a rather shiny katana-like blade, and stepping forward.

"This is your last warning, Khajiit. _Stand back_." This time I got the feeling that paper work or no, she wasn't kidding. Something in her tone, or maybe it was the sight of that deadly looking blade in her hand. In any case, I finally listened, walking casually back to stand at attention under the window. And by window, we all mean a hole in the wall scarcely larger than a crack with just enough room for more metal bars. As if anyone could escape through that thing anyways.

Now that they figured I was being cooperative, the female guard sheathed her sword and the male guard finally opened the gate, taking the lead inside to come stand by me and point to the spot where I was standing, instructing me to stay put. I hardly paid attention; my eyes were on that nice _open_ gate.

'Course, it was at this point I finally realized that there was a fourth person with the group when another male voice reported that there was "no sign of pursuit." At that, the female guard led the old man into my cell, followed by the male guard who had just spoken.

"Good, let's go. We're not out of this yet," she said as she walked over to the wall beside the slab of rock that was my miserable bed.

Before I got to find out what she was doing, the old man addressed me, "You…I've seen you." What? You mean a couple minutes ago when I was staring at you from my then closed cell gate? He came closer.

"Let me see your face… you are the one from my dreams. Then the stars were right, and this is the day. Gods give me strength," I was, at this point, understandably confused.

"What in the forests of Elsweyr is going on?" I asked in my raspy Khajiit voice. He seemed at least partially amused by this.

"Assassins attacked my sons, and I am next. My Blades are leading me out a secret escape root. By chance, the entrance to that route leads through your cell," ah, that makes things _oh so much_ clearer.

"Who are you?" I asked simply. First things first, right?

"I am your emperor, Uriel Septim," ah, that would explain why I've never seen him before. Nine forbid we common folk ever see who's in control of our lives as long as we're in Tamriel. "By the grace of the gods, I serve Tamriel as her ruler. You are a citizen of Tamriel, and you, too, shall serve her in your own way."

I glanced around; sure, I'm serving to keep the cell warm for the next poor soul who gets thrown in here!

"Why am I in jail?" I asked; I couldn't for the life of me recall why. Don't you remember that discussion?

"Perhaps the Gods have placed you here so that we may meet. As for what you have done, it does not matter. _That_ is not what you will be remembered for." Remembered, ha! What a laugh. I won't be remembered for anything, just like every other commoner on all Nirn. But of course, leave it to the nobles to worry about people actually remembering things.

"What should I do?" _oh great and mighty Emperor…_ I decided against adding that last part with a quick glance at the guards.

"You will find your own path. Take care; there will be blood and death before the end." Oh, what a way to comfort someone. You know, I had asked in the hopes he would tell me to go walk out the front door of the prison, that no one would stop me. Way to shoot that dream down, buddy.

"Please, sire, we must keep moving." That was the female guard again, pressing some stone on the wall.

This resulted in a stony grating sound as my miserable bed-slab slid into the floor. Hey, that was my miserable bed! Once again, a glance at the guards sealed my mouth. As soon as the "bed" stopped moving, the wall behind it cracked and something of a door slid open. The guard pushed it further open, saying "Better not close this one; there's no way to open it from the other side."

Wow. Just. Wow. I had just enough time to thank my Khajiit luck for sticking me in the cell that had a nice large unguarded doorway in the back. Course I had already forgotten the emperor's words of the secret escape route, leaving me to be surprised by the route suddenly appearing. What? My memory's faulty. Family curse of mine.

The emperor and the two male guards filed in after the female guard had entered the area beyond the stone door, seemingly forgetting my presence. At least until the last one paused right before entering to look back at me.

"Looks like this is your lucky day. Just stay out of our way." No need to tell me twice. This route seemed _much_ better an idea than trying to waltz out my still open cell door.

As the convoy moved on, I took a triumphant glance over at the cell across the hall where the Dunmer was looking at me with a seething death glare, then dropped into a crouch and moved to follow the others; I had a feeling that things wouldn't be pretty after my prior bad experiences with caves and the underground, so I planned to sneak my way past any danger at all.

I found the area beyond my cell to be part of some ancient stone structure, and quite frankly I wasn't sure I wanted to know what it had been used for before the stone started to crumble. I quietly followed the guards down a small flight of stairs, keeping a respective distance, and when I stubbed my furry foot on a crack in the floor, _hard_, I decided I best make use of my Night-Eye ability.

Ah, much better. I continue to follow the guards, but stopped dead in my tracks when the sounds of battle came from around the next corner. I peeked around very slowly so as to not attract attention to myself and watched as figures cloaked in red jumped out, cast some random spell, and all of a sudden were decked out in some wicked looking armor with even more wicked looking weapons. Wonder-fricken-ful.

"Close up left; protect the emperor!" the female guard shouted as they began to engage the enemy. I decided that, with no weapon to speak of, and no desire to trust my faulty aim with a spell, I'd stay right where I was and let the guards put their nice shiny swords through a workout.

"The captain's down!" one of the male guards called a few sword clashes later as he and the other male guard continued to face their three opponents. Several more sword clashes later and they finally dispatched the last of them. Sheathing their swords, the guards walked over to the emperor, who had hung back in relative safety for the battle, not having to use his pretty silver short sword.

"Are you alright, sire? We're clear, for now," one of the guards, the Redguard that I had noticed last when the convoy came to my cell, addressed the emperor as I crept forward, eyeing what was left of the battle; I needed a weapon if there were to be more complications such as this.

"Captain Renault?" the emperor asked.

"She's dead; I'm sorry, sire, but we _have_ to keep moving."

As they both turned to walk onwards towards the other guard, I continued to creep towards the fallen enemies and the no-longer-with-us Captain. The group paused at a gate, while the Imperial guard started ranting.

"How could they be waiting for us _here?!_"

They continued their conversation, but I was uninterested; far too busy getting myself a weapon. None of the enemies had _anything_ of interest; just some red robes. They looked better than what I was wearing, but I decided against donning the clothes of the enemy in front of the guards. Captain Renault, however, had some weapons that interested me. I had the choice of her katana, or a steel short sword. I opted for the short sword; always was better with shorter blades, but snagged the katana just in case.

At this point the group was moving on, and the Redguard decided to end my luck by saying, "You stay here, prisoner; don't try to follow us," and by locking the next gate behind him. Darn.

I was just about to head back to my cell and resign myself to serving my sentence when a section of wall crumbled and two dog-sized rats decided to try to make me their dinner. Had I not been worried about killing them first, I might have died of laughter from the irony.

The little buggers were tough, and those bloody teeth of theirs _hurt_, and I was none to happy to find that my skill with a blade was a bit rusty. I did manage to kill them both—their fur ain't armor, and this sword is sharp—but not before taking a few hits from the nasty little things. And wouldn't you know I just didn't have any potions with me, and restoration had never been my strong point, so my wounds would just have to wait. Crud.

I did, however, manage to pick the rats clean of a bit of their meat, though. Rat meat makes for some nasty poisons, as I had previously learned, and I was happy to gather the supplies while I had the chance. Only problem being that I had no apparatus to _make_ poison, but it was always good to be prepared.

I crept through the gaping hole in the wall the rats had left to find a seemingly man-made cave waiting for me. Lovely. Well, it was this or my cell; I opted for the lesser of two evils.

Glancing around, I found a pretty little chest with some gold and a war ax in it. I took the gold. I left the ax. No use to me and I didn't fancy lugging a dead weight around at the moment. Keeping an eye out for rats, I crept my way towards the next object of interest: a skeleton. Woo. Never get tired of checking corpses.

Though I _did_ find a bow; piece of junk, really, but it was something; I'm a relatively good shot with a bow; better with bow than sword, at least, and far better than with a spell. I tested my aim on a nearby rat that I luckily just now noticed before it noticed me, and found that I had not lost my skill. Dropped that thing with a single arrow, I did. Far better than blindly hacking at 'em with a sword.

Now certain that there were no more rats in the near vicinity, I took a better look around and found a chest on which I could practice my good 'ol Khajiit lock-picking skills on. At least, if I had lock picks. Lucky for me, I spotted a few scattered about the skeleton that I had found my bow and arrows on. Lucky day!

Using my wonderful cat-like security skills, I didn't even break a single pick and was rewarded with gold and a sapphire. Yay, I'm still just a poor as I was a minute ago! Further checking my surroundings, I found another chest, a barrel, and a goblin corpse. That added to my supplies a few more arrows and lock picks and a scarce amount of gold. But gee, I wonder if I'll have to kill some goblins later?

Also on the goblin corpse I found a key which just so happened to unlock the door about five steps away. Luck will be my savior yet.

That first "room" pretty much set the pace of my journey through this rotting cave. A rat here, a goblin there, a chest or sack with some arrows over there, a few more lock picks to add to my collection, some more useless equipment that I decided to leave rather than lug around. I even got the chance to check my aim with spells. And I found I _still_ wasn't any good at it. Yay for me! I found my best, safest way of combat was to sneak up on enemies and put an arrow clean through 'em. Not that I would've expected different; I must be the one Khajiit in Nirn with a knack for a bow. Of course, that may have something to do with my prior training, but let's not get into that.

Among the loot, I managed to find some healing potions to heal the wounds from my first scrap with the rats, and enough to heal any further wounds I garnered. I also managed to find some ripe Cairn Bolete plants, which I remembered had some handy healing properties, and an ancient mortar and pestle with which I made a couple poisons out of the other material I had found. These greatly helped my ability to drop creatures quickly and easily, reducing the number of wounds I received when a single arrow wasn't enough. Stupid goblins.

My journey finally brought me back to a different part of the stone underground structure that this whole thing had started in. Imagine that. With luck still guiding me, as I moved forward I heard the rhythmic metallic sound of the guards in the convoy walking. What are the chances that two completely different roots come to the same place at the _exact same time_? Wow.

From my vantage point of a floor above them, I could hear the group's conversation as they moved below.

"We should find a defensible spot and protect the emperor until help arrives."

"Help? What makes you think help…?" I stopped listening at this point; having my Night-Eye active allowed me to see the movement in the area directly opposite of where I was; more of those robed fighters about to attack.

"Here they come again!"

Battle ensued, but ended quickly; the guards dispatched one of the attackers, the other fell to the last of my poisoned arrows. Thinking they'd be glad to see me after the assistance I had just rendered, I easily jumped down to be at the same level with them, putting my bow on my back upon landing; no need to seem like a threat.

Not that it helped me. As soon as he saw me, the Imperial guard yanked out his sword and started towards me, "It's that prisoner again! Kill her, she might be working with the assassins!" Oh sure, I'm an assassin come to kill the emperor when I _just_ got _out_ of jail. I raised my hands to show I had no weapon, but this didn't help either; guess he thought I was about to try to blast him into Oblivion with some spell. Ha! With my aim, too!

"No, she is not one of them. She can help us. She _must_ help us," that was the emperor, and just in time, too. The guard stopped his forward advance, sheathed his sword, and retook his position at the front of the convoy as the emperor came towards me. I stayed where I was, still a little weary of the guards; I no longer wished to bet my life on the fact that they didn't want paperwork.

"Come closer; I'd prefer not to have to shout," I obeyed, eyeing the guards; I decided that disobeying the emperor would be more dangerous than getting within attack distance of his guards.

"They cannot understand why I trust you. They've not seen what I've seen." Uh-huh. Don't explain yourself at all there, buddy. Feel free to talk in riddles all you like. Guess all old people get that right eventually.

"How can I explain?" Wow. So now this guy reads minds, too?

"Listen. You know the Nine? How They guide our fates with an invisible hand?"

"I don't know. I don't think about it," I responded; I'm a Khajiit, we have our own deities to care about apart from the Nine. Not that I pay too much attention _them_ either; luck's about all I care about.

"I've served the Nine all my days, and I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens." The Emperor didn't seem too bothered by my answer, which was good, but one of the guards had given a slight snort of what I assumed to be disapproval, which was bad.

"The skies are marked with numberless sparks, each a fire, and every one a sign," you mean the stars? Guess "star" isn't fancy enough for the emperor.

"I know these stars well, and I wonder… which sign marked your birth?" Never mind. He just wanted to be enigmatic earlier.

I paused to think before answering; we Khajiit watch the moons before the stars, but I did recall being told which sign I was born under. Just couldn't remember which one…

"Uh," I said, rather dumbly, "I think it was the Lady." It sounded right, whether or not it _was_, however, was a different story. But hey, what's it going to effect?

"The signs I read show the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come."

"What about me?" I asked, wondering why he had asked my birth sign.

"Your stars are not mine. Today the Lady shall fortify you in your quest for glory." Ha, yeah, quest for glory, that's a good one.

"Can you see my fate?" I asked, deciding to humor him for the sake of keeping the guards happy.

"My dreams grant me no opinions of success. Their compass ventures not beyond the doors of death." Great, more riddles. "But in your face, I behold the sun's companion. The dawn of Akatosh's bright glory may banish the coming darkness." You know what? I'm not even going to say it.

"With such hope, and with the promise of your aid, my heart must be satisfied."

"Aren't you afraid to die?" I changed the subject at that promise of my aid part.

"No trophies of my triumphs precede me. But I have lived well, and my ghost shall rest easy. Men are but flesh and blood. They know their doom, but not the hour. In this, I am blessed to see the hour of my death…To face my apportioned fate, then fall."

"Where are we going?" All this was getting a bit depressing for me; I hoped _this_ answer would not be so dark.

"I go to my grave." Maybe not. "A tongue shriller than all the music calls me." Fascinating.

"You shall follow me yet for a while, then we must part." At this, he turned to walk towards the Imperial guard. I started to follow, but a hand grasped my shoulder and turned me to face the Redguard.

"You may as well make yourself useful. Here, carry this torch and stick close." He thrust the torch at me, but I opted not to use it; I'd rather keep my shadows for any more combat.

"The emperor called you his "Blades" earlier. What did he mean?" I asked, hoping to distract him from the fact that I wasn't going to carry the torch.

"We're the emperor's bodyguards; our job is to get him out of situations like this," he said with authority, then continued in a quieter voice, "Although I admit, things are not going according to plan." Nah, hadn't noticed.

I nodded in understanding and he turned to follow the others, while I hung back and readied my bow, my fur tingling with the sensation we were still being watched. I followed them to the next room, but when they went for the stairs leading down to the lower level, I waited on the top level where I could see better. Good thing I did, because I caught the sight of movement in the opposite section of the higher level, and was able to land an arrow into one of the attackers, wounding him so that when he jumped to attack the others the Blades dispatched him easily and quickly moved on to the other attacker, who had come from the next room.

As the others moved on, I opted not to waste time on the stairs and simply jumped down to hurry after them, sticking close to them, seeing as they were my best bet of survival. The next room consisted of three more attackers which I left the guards to handle; I didn't trust my aim not to peg one of the convoy instead of an enemy, not with all of them running around as they were.

As the group moved on to the next room, I paused to collect some potions from a chest I had spotted during the battle, then hurried after them. Not that I needed to hurry, they had stopped in the next room; I arrived just in time to here the Imperial say that he didn't like the look of this as he moved forward to investigate, leaving the rest of us to wait.

I moved to put myself in a position where I could cover him should there be attackers, but it was hardly necessary; nothing happened, and he simply signaled us to move on, so we did, me waiting to drop back behind the others again. However, as soon as we reached the next gate, the Imperial guard leading stopped and cursed, yanking his sword out as though expecting an attack. I tensed and looked around, but saw nothing, just as he started to explain.

"The gate is barred from the other side! A trap!" Well, that can't be good. I tensed even more, putting an arrow to my bow, just in case.

"What about that side passage back there?" the Redguard suggested. I glanced towards it. Sure didn't look safe to me, but I wasn't going to argue.

"Worth a try, let's go." I followed like the good prisoner I was, all the while having my fur stand on end, my instincts screaming at me that this was a dumb idea.

"It's a dead end. What's your call, sir?" the Redguard reported just as I stepped into the small side room.

"I don't know; I don't see any good options here."

Suddenly the sound of movement back in the main room alerted us to more attackers.

"They're behind us! Wait here, sire," the Imperial said before moving towards the main room.

"Wait here with the emperor. Guard him with your life." The Redguard ordered me before joining the other Blade. I waited with the emperor, ready to shoot any attackers that decided to try the side passage; more for my own safety than for the emperor's, but at least I was following orders.

"I can go no further," the emperor said suddenly, and I turned to look at him, distracting me from my job, "You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants. He must not have the Amulet of Kings!" He said, thrusting a large red amulet into my right hand and causing me to drop the arrow that I had been holding to my bow string. I stared at the amulet curiously for a moment before the emperor spoke again.

"Take the Amulet. Give it Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son." Now I was royally confused. I thought he had said earlier his sons were dead… "Find him, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion."

At this point, the wall behind him started to move, and I caught a glimpse of dark red. Knowing it must be another attacker, I quickly pocketed the amulet and grasped the arrow I had dropped earlier, but there was no way. Before I could get the shot off, and even if I had, knowing that it wouldn't kill the attacker, the assassin slid a wicked dagger across the emperor's throat from his position behind him.

As the emperor fell, I loosed my arrow. It struck the attacker, but didn't kill him, as I knew it wouldn't. Before I could get another arrow to my bow, he had advanced and was hacking madly at me with his dagger. I took plenty of hits before I was able to jump backwards out of range, just as the Redguard came in and finished the attacker off. Wounded and in a world of pain, I watched solemnly as the Redguard crouched by the fallen emperor.

"No…Talos save us," he muttered.

"We've failed. I've failed… The Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor, and now he and all his heirs are dead." He said, talking more to his self than to me though he was looking right at me.

"The Amulet, where's the Amulet of Kings? It wasn't on the Emperor's body!" this time he was very clearly addressing me.

I reached into my pocket and pulled it out just enough that the guard could see it, "The Emperor gave it to me."

"Strange. He saw something in you, trusted you." He said, looking back and forth from the amulet to me, "They say it's the Dragon Blood that flows through the veins of every Septim. They see more than lesser men," I slid the Amulet back into my pocket and finally placed my bow on my back, sure that no other attackers would show up now the emperor was dead.

"The Amulet of Kings is a sacred symbol of the Empire. Most people think of the Red Dragon Crown, but that's just jewelry," the Redguard continued, "The Amulet has power. Only a true heir of he Blood can wear it, they say." Who's this _they_ everyone always mentions? I'd really love to know.

"He must have given it to you for a reason. Did he say why?"

"He said to take it to Jauffre."

"Jauffre? He said that? Why?" Why do I get the feeling I'm not supposed to know who Jauffre is? Some Imperial secret or something, perhaps.

"He said there is another heir." _You know, one that ain't dead_.

"Nothing I ever heard about." Yeah, that's why the emperor said that 'he alone knows where to find my last son' last I checked that meant that no one else would know it.

"But Jauffre would be the one to know. He's the Grandmaster of my Order." Ah, that would be why I'm not supposed to know who he is. Another important person we poor commoners don't get the right to know about.

"Although you may not think so to meet him. He lives quietly as a monk at Weynon Priory, near the city of Chorrol." _All_ the way to _Chorrol_? But that'd take, like, forever! It's not like I have a horse, and I'm a bit rusty on running a lot.

"How do I get there?" I asked, hoping he'd instruct me on how to get a bit of faster transportation.

"First you need to get out of here." Oh yeah, how _ever_ could I forget _that_? Even _with _my faulty memory. "Through that door must be the entrance to the sewers, past the locked gate. That's where we were heading." Ah, lovely, sewers. "It's a secret way out of the Imperial City. Or it was supposed to be secret. Here, you'll need this key for the last door into the sewers."

"What do you mean sewers?" You were going to take the _emperor_ through a _sewer_?

"There are rats and goblins down there…" oh, so you mean exactly what I've faced since leaving my cell? Which I'm starting to think I should have just stayed in? "But from what I've seen of you, I'm guessing you are an experienced Thief. Am I right?"

It was a good thing I had put my bow on my back earlier, or I might just have bashed him over the head with it. Stupid typical stereotyping guards! Oh, it's a Khajiit in jail, it _must_ be a Thief! There aren't any other crimes a Khajiit could commit to get thrown in jail but thievery! Nine forbid any Khajiit try to make something of themselves that does not include breaking the law for a living. Just because I'd rather keep my distance from an enemy and hide in the shadows to avoid my own personal harm, that all of a sudden makes me a thief?! Oh what I wouldn't give to wipe that smug smile from his face now! But seeing as he still had his sword, I did not voice my rant.

"Actually, no," I said, with a great effort to hide my annoyance, "I'm a Witchhunter," I explained in that dangerously calm voice that says 'I'm about five seconds from exploding'.

"Really? I would never have guessed," oh, am I'm _so sure_ that your inability to guess that has _absolutely_ nothing to do with your stereotyping mind! "Still, I don't think you'll have any trouble with rats and goblins." Humph.

"After the sewers, then what?" I asked, still struggling to conceal my annoyance.

"You must get the Amulet to Jauffre. Take no chances, but proceed to Weynon Priory immediately. Got it?" I nodded, ready to take out my anger on some of those rats and goblins he mentioned.

"Good. The Emperor's trust was well-placed." As I turned to go, he noticed the Captain's katana that I was still carrying strapped under my quiver, "By the way, thanks for recovering Captain Renault's sword," I took this to mean I wouldn't get out of here with that sword, so I grabbed it and tossed it to him, "I'll see that it is given a place of honor in the halls of the Blades." Great. As if I care.

Without another word, I headed towards the secret passage the assassin had used earlier and quietly made my way towards the sewers, readying my bow and chugging down a healing potion before I unlocked the next door with the guard's key and then slipped down the hole into the sewers, not bothering with the ladder. Once there, I notched an arrow to my bow string and moved on, taking the only available course there was. At least I couldn't get lost.

Several rats, goblins, and drops of I don't want to know what landing on my head later, I was out. The light at the end of the tunnel called me as I sprinted down the sewage pipe to sweet freedom. My happiness was further elevated when I managed to spot a mud crab near by before it saw me, despite my aforementioned sprinting, and took it down in order to enjoy a brief meal of crab meat. There is no better food on Nirn than seafood.


	2. Chapter 2 I Hate this City

Disclaimer: Wow, anyone else notice how annoying these things get? And I'm only on chapter two. This does not bode well. Anyways, once again, TESIV: Oblivion belongs to Bethesda and associated companies, and not to me. How I wish it did, though.

Note: Well, obviously, here's the second chapter; I do hope it receives as good a reaction as my first did. Also, I have some references to other games and movies in here, so if you catch any of them, let me know, 'cause it'd probably make my day. Finally, I took a few artistic liberties in this chapter to make things both more realistic and more interesting, so if something doesn't fit with the actual game, then that would be why.

**Chapter 2**

_I Hate this City_

I officially hate fish. Except for eating, that is. As soon as I had finished my lovely crab meat, I went to get a small drink from the lake and to wash my face of any remnants of my meal. Out of the clear blue water (ahem) this stupid slaughterfish lunges up and tries to take my whiskers clear off. Had I not been fuming mad, I might have thanked my cat reflexes that it didn't succeed. However, I _was_ fuming mad.

I yanked my bow off my back, notched an arrow to the string, and then dangled my tail right above the surface of the water. _Here, fishy, fishy._ Soon as the thing, stupid as it was, came near the surface, I darn near point-blanked it with my arrow. That fish had taken its last lunge for a cat's whiskers, as it did not continue to move. It was at this point that I realized irony _must_ be trying to kill me. In one day, rats _and_ a fish had both tried to make me, a cat, their meal. I yanked my arrow free of the fish in a bout of annoyance at this thought, and then calmly took to removing a sample of its scales. Never know when they'll come in handy.

That done, I set about deciding my next task. Sure, I _could_ go find my way to Weynon Priory and hand off the amulet, but that would simply take forever, and in my current condition, I had no intention of trekking through that much wilderness with the horrid, rotting equipment I currently had. Thus, urgent or not, I was _not_ taking the amulet yet. After all, the Redguard _did_ say to take no chances. So I wasn't going to take any chances. I was going to march myself into the Imperial City, get rid of this junk, find myself some better equipment, and get a good night's rest on a _real_ bed. _Not_ another slab of stone, thank you very much.

That decided, I turned on my furry little heel and started to trek towards the city that was perfectly visible from here. Never did it occur to me that marching into the city whose jail I _just_ escaped from might be a slightly bad idea. So, this thought _not_ going through my head, I continued my casual walk across the City Isle towards the main entrance of the city. That is, it was casual until a wolf, on top of everything else today, decided to try _its_ paw at making me dinner.

Three missed shots, five bite wounds, and two arrows in a fallen canine corpse later found me nearly cutting my hands as I tried to stupidly skin the wolf with a short sword. A couple nicks after that and I settled for just a sample of the pelt, leaving the rest of it, my arrows included, to whatever happened upon it. I did, however, recover my three missed shots before continuing on. I now, more than ever, was looking forward to that real bed.

The rest of my walk was, quite surprisingly, rather pleasant. With no further surprises, I reached the rear gate of the stable outside the Imperial City, the Chestnut Handy Stables. I noted their rather nice selection of horses as I walked through them, gently patting a couple of them as I passed. By time I walked inside the city's enormous main gate, the sun was setting at my back. I figured I'd still have enough time to check the shops before finding an inn. I would've asked the guards standing at either side of the main gate where to find these shops, but both of them were giving me the oddest of looks. I couldn't imagine why.

Dead ahead was a large statue of a dragon surrounded by a garden and pillars, with two guards circling it on patrol, and absolutely no one else. Okay…I thought this was the capital. So where are all the people? I moved on.

As I passed, I noticed the large hanging sign outside a building that proclaimed it the 'Tiber Septim Hotel'. Hmm, perhaps an inn with a bed? I made a note to remember how to get back here.

I passed a fellow citizen…or, at least, I _thought_ it was a citizen. He had a full set of chain mail and was patrolling with a torch. I passed him by, hoping to find a more friendly looking face to question.

On the other side of the next gate found me staring open-mouthed at the tower in front of me, while the citizen before me stared at me with a disgusted look on her face. When I noticed her, I failed to notice how disgusted she seemed to be by me; all I saw was a citizen who wasn't decked in armor. So I approached her.

"Where did you get those clothes?" she said in this snobby holier-than-thou voice. She was Altmer, so her snobby holier-than-thou voice was definitely perfected.

"I don't know, perhaps a clothier?" I said sarcastically; I didn't appreciate her tone, nor did I fancy explaining my recent escape from jail, where these clothes came from.

"Ugh," she snorted, "You must have gone to the worst clothier in all Tamriel. That, or you have _very_ poor taste in clothing."

I glanced at my sack-cloth clothes that seemed to be ready to disintegrate before responding, "Agreed, my clothes look awful. The concept is grasped. Care to tell me where I can get some better ones? I'd hate to cause your eyes to bleed," my voice dripped in sarcasm, and perhaps I showed my fangs a bit more than necessary, but I _would_ get the answer I needed.

"In the Market District, over there," she gestured over to one of the far gates in the circle around the tower I had first started at, and then quickly moved away.

Thank you, helpy-helperton. I headed across the area, skirting the large tower which I assumed to be White Gold Tower, where the Imperial palace was located, and passed through the gate to find myself within the Market District. Now, had someone not told me, I never would have guessed this was the Market District. The streets were near deserted; I had to wonder yet again where all the people were.

By time I started to scout the shops, it was already dark. Still, I hoped these shopkeepers did not rise and set with the sun. The first shop of interest was called 'The Copious Coinpurse'. I took this to mean that, hopefully, this would be a one-stop shopping trip so I could go collapse on a _real_ bed.

I went to open the door, and found it locked. I hate these shopkeepers already. So, my shopping would have to wait for tomorrow. I turned to find my way back to the Tiber Septim Hotel when a guard approached me. He was wearing white armor trimmed in gold that was far fancier than the other guard armor, so I guessed he was important.

"Hail, citizen. A moment of your time?" the tone he spoke in said I didn't have a choice. I nodded.

"I am Itius Hayn, one of the Captains of the Guard here in the city," now where had I heard that name before… "The men reported a suspicious looking Khajiit within the city, care to explain your business here?" …That's right! He was one of the guards that oversaw my transfer into the Imperial City Prison…

My elders would most definitely _not_ approve of the Ta'Agra words that flowed through my mind at that moment. Thanks to the darkness, the guard failed to notice my face, or else he might have recognized me. Or at least would have been more suspicious at sight of my cringe.

"I am simply visiting here, sir. I needed to buy and sell from the market, but I came in late and did not realize the shops closed so early. I intend now to find an inn to stay the night in," I said sweetly; I had no intention of getting myself in worse trouble than I might already be in by disrespecting a guard captain.

He looked at me with distrust, but seemed to decide not to press the issue; after all, I had done nothing wrong that they knew about. "Very well. Carry on, citizen."

No need to repeat yourself. I was outta there as quick as I could go without looking suspicious, feeling the Imperial's gaze on my back as I moved back towards the inn I had seen earlier. That was far too close for comfort, but perhaps they would leave me be from now on. Note to self for the future: never enter a city the same day as escaping from the city's prison.

Still earning strange looks from _every_ guard I happened to pass, I finally was able to make my way back to the Tiber Septim Hotel, and entered. I found the inn to be a bit more, erm, fancy than I had ever suspected. The main room was quite spacious, with quite a few rather large and expensive looking rugs and some rather fancy furniture. In front of me was a large desk, behind which stood the innkeeper who was looking at me with utter, undisguised disgust. Yeah, so my clothes suck. I get it. Anyone _else_ want to inform me?

Not letting her disgust bother me one bit, I strolled up to the desk and leaned slightly on it. I do that a lot, don't I? Guess I'm too lazy to stand unaided for too long. You know, me being a cat and all. The innkeeper had very obviously shuffled away as I approached, her disgusted look deepening as she studied my rather disheveled appearance. Okay, okay, maybe 'disheveled' ain't strong enough a word, but you get the point without me disappointing my elders any more.

"Can I help you?" the innkeeper said in this holier-than-thou voice as she looked down on me as best she could, seeing as we were about the same height. I notice a lot of people here have holier-than-thou attitudes. I've decided I officially hate this city.

"Yeah, I need a room for the night. How much?" Sure, I could have been a bit more proper, but why try being something that I obviously am not?

She stared at me long and hard; my guess she was deciding how much cleaning she'd have to do if she rented me the room. I guess she decided that a paying customer was worth it and finally said, "I do have one available, but it isn't cheap," she was so very obviously hinting that she doubted I had enough money

"How much?" I repeated, getting the hint she had dropped; can't say that I blame her, seeing as I don't precisely look like a noble or some rich merchant, but how much could a room for the night cost?

"40 Septims a night. More if I have to clean up after you."

…I just kind of stared at her for a full minute. Then I started what must have been a five minute rant in Ta'Agra before she finally put a stop to it when other citizens came in.

"If you don't have the money, then _leave_." I think that was a subtle 'leave or I call the guards' tone in her voice. "I have other customers to deal with, so I am very busy. Go try one of the lesser inns."

I hissed quietly in annoyance and then turned on my heel to stomp past the others on the way out, leaving a string of, um, colorful Ta'Agra vocabulary in my wake.

Okay, so that didn't go too well. Given that I had less than 100 Septims to my name, I was _not_ about to spend half of 'em for a single night, no matter how much I wanted a good night's rest. I decided I'd try one more inn before finding a nice spot on the ground outside the city.

I glanced around for someone to ask where another inn was, but was disappointed to find that the only person on the streets in this entire district was a guard who was watching me suspiciously just like every other guard in this oblivion pit of a city. I hissed my further annoyance before approaching him.

"What do you want, citizen?" He asked rather rudely. Oh, just 'cause I look like I'm some beggar gives _everyone_ the right to treat me as such? I'll have to remember that later; I may want to enact my revenge on the next person I see that looks like a beggar.

"Where can I get a cheap room for the night?" _One that doesn't cost half my current funds._

He glanced at what he could see of my clothes in the darkness, then gestured to his left, my right, to a large gate. "Head over to the Temple District, then out the gate to your right to the Water Front. The Bloated Float would be the best choice for someone of your status."

My fur began to rise in anger, bristling along the nape of my neck, but I said nothing. I knew he was right; still didn't mean he had to _say_ it, though. But, since he was a guard, and I had no wish of further trouble, I muttered thanks and then went on my way. My feet were throbbing after a few steps, and I decided that stone was _not_ the best material to stomp on.

After wandering aimlessly in the waterfront and trying to find where on Nirn this bloody Bloated Float was, I finally found it to be one of the docked boats. No, this did _not_ occur to me from the name of the inn; don't ask why. Anyways, I waltzed in through the front door and up to the Altmer behind the counter, only slightly unsteady in my walk due to the constant movement of the ship. I only then remembered how much I did indeed _loathe_ ships. Maybe I'd be sleeping on a nice patch of _solid_ ground, after all.

"Well met! Welcome to the Bloated Float! What can I get you?" the elf didn't seem to even notice my horrid attire. Course, while I was happy about that, I wasn't sure if it was a good thing, because this guy is used to it, or a bad thing, because this guy is the most oblivious being in all Cyrodiil.

"I need a place to stay for the night. How much for a room?" _Cheap, cheap, cheap. _I thought, as though my thoughts alone would change the price.

"There's a fine room available for only 10 gold. What'd you say?"

What do I say? I say that's flipping great! A little over a tenth of my gold ought to be easy enough to replace tomorrow at the shops with all the junk I have to sell; unlike half of my savings.

"Sure, I'll take it," I said, fishing ten gold out of my pocket and handing it over.

"Wise choice, my friend. You've never had a night's rest like this!" I'll bet. We're standing in a docked boat. Don't think I've ever slept on a docked boat yet. Course, with my faulty memory, you never know. "The room is down below deck, the door on the left. And do keep it clean."

I nodded and headed below deck, slightly more comfortable with the rocking motion. The room, considering the price, was not too bad. A _real_ bed, of nice size, awaited me along with a table with a cloth, a bowl, and some water for washing. Then I noticed that the bed was actually just a few planks of wood built into the boat covered in a cloth so that, upon entering, it only _looks_ like a real bed. I likely would have earned a pretty little punishment had my elders heard my mutterings.

Resigning myself to the fact that luck loved me sometimes and hated me the rest of the time, I poured some of the water into the bowl and began to wash my face of the grime. I felt decidedly better after this, now my fur was not caked to my skin, and finally turned in to sleep, not bothering to change seeing as I had no other clothes to change to, but setting my bow and quiver on the table, along with most of my other junk.

Despite the fact that I was literally sleeping on a plank, the bed was at least remotely comfortable; hey, it was better than stone. I was stepping up in life! Or not. Still, I managed to sleep quite a few hours before my body finally said _enough_ and jarred me from my deep sleep. I've been known to redefine the term cat-nap, so it was always when my body decided it was rested enough that I woke up, and not when someone else tried to wake me up. My family members had dumped buckets of water on me and I just muttered, turned over, and kept sleeping. I'd like to see _anyone_ top _that._

As I sat up and put my feet on the floor, I suddenly realized that the boat was moving quite a bit more than it was when I went to sleep. "What in the forests of Elsweyr?" I muttered. I wasn't surprised that I had not woken up whenever this started; I _was_ surprised by the fact that it had started at all.

I stood up, and promptly fell right back down. More colorful language, yay! It is decidedly easier to walk on a ship while it is docked, rather than while it is out at sea, as I guessed this one was now. I finally scraped myself off the floor and tottered around to my door, hoping to find the captain, wherever in Oblivion that elf had gone.

Before I actually reached my door, it opened and a big Nord fellow came barging in; probably heard the crash my fall had made. "Hey! Who in Oblivion are you? You don't look like one of the Blackwater Brigands!" he says in this doofy voice all Nords seem to have.

"None of your business." I spat; I was still not awake enough to notice his armor and weapon…

"Intruders _are_ my business. I think instead of locking you in the storage room with the bouncer, I'm going to dump your body overboard!" Uh, what now? Since when did I become a body? I stared at this guy like he had just grown horns; that is, until he yanks out this iron sword of his. Oh criminy.

I leapt, not jumped, _leapt_ back at his first swing, knocking the stupid table over, effectively scattering my bow and arrows. Not good. Definitely. Not. Good. The short sword was the only weapon within reach, and we all know how bad I am with one of those. Still, it was something, so I snatched it up just in time to block his next swing, nearly dropping it again from the impact. Nords are _definitely_ too strong for their own good.

Getting backed into a corner with nothing but a weapon you can't use and a battle-raged Nord between you and freedom has got to be the worst feeling I've had in, well, pretty much forever. Speed was on my side, so I was able to at least knock the power of most of the swings, even if I couldn't stop them fully from reaching me. Still, there was no way on all of Nirn and Oblivion _combined_ that I could keep this up.

Sure enough, the Nord power-swung at me and knocked that short sword of mine clear across the room. Yeah, so now I'm backed into a corner with no weapon at all with a battle-raged Nord between me, freedom, and a weapon. I retract my earlier statement; _this_ is the worst feeling I've ever had. Course, I had _no_ intention of being killed by someone who sounds like he couldn't even count to two. Just had to think of something…

"What do you say now, eh Khajiit?" he says, holding his blade for the next attack, "Still none of my business?"

"I say if your going to kill someone, then get it over with, don't stand there talking 'bout it," this statement got him to stare at me dumbly for a while, then to burst out laughing. I moved.

No hope of getting my weapon without him noticing, but lucky for me, I'm a cat. We _always_ have weapons, ten of 'em, actually, whether we're good at using them or not. With his head thrown back in laughter, his thick throat was quite nicely exposed. One hand went right for it, my claws going for the best purchase, the other hand gripped the wrist of his sword hand with all my might, digging the claws in deep until he dropped his sword. Now we were even, even once he tore himself from my grip on his neck with all that bloody strength of his.

"You'll pay for that, you savage animal!" Ha! Yeah, I'm the savage animal when _you_ were the very one that attacked _me_ when all _I_ did was wake up!

Not bothering to try to pick up his weapon, the Nord decided to try to literally _beat_ me to death. Except now, I had slightly more room and could _dodge_. Ain't that lovely. So now he was just tiring himself out, seeing as the only thing he was beating up was stale air. I even got in my own hits from time to time, actually doing some damage seeing as I had my claws, which he did not, even when he did land a hit. Still hurt, but he did less damage now, especially compared to when he had that stupid sword.

Eventually the big Nord really started to run out of energy, giving me much more time between dodges to formulate a way to finish this. Course, luck was impatient and would not wait for me to come up with the plan on my own; on my next dodge, I slit my foot on one of my fallen arrows. Yeah, that hurt. But, hey, here was an actual weapon! I picked it up, dodged the next swing, and jumped in to stab the guy.

A note to anyone who actually cares: arrows are _not_ daggers. They should not be used as daggers, either. It got the job done, sure, and the big Nord keeled over dead with my rather well-aimed attack to his neck, seeing as that was the most vulnerable area not covered by armor, but the arrow snapped and splintered in my hand upon completion of the attack. It'll be weeks before I get all these bloody splinters out of my fur _and_ skin.

Cringing, I tossed aside what was left of my arrow and then glanced around. My room was a horrid mess. I doubt I could take a step without cutting my foot again on an arrow; in fact, I'm surprised I lasted as long as I did before stepping on one. Or perhaps I just stepped on the shafts, especially since a good fourth of my arrows had snapped somewhere near the middle. Had anyone been near by, I would have filled their ears full of Ta'Agra words to never say around a Khajiit.

I gathered up what was left of my arrow supply, about twenty or so arrows, perhaps a few more; I wasn't going to count. Then I kicked all the rest into the corner of the room, gathered the rest of my supplies that had been knocked off the up-ended table, and finally righted said table. I wasn't about to pay extra to the innkeeper for having him clean my room.

That done, I finally crouched near my fallen foe, whose body was making a mess _outside_ my room, so I didn't have to deal with it, and searched through the pockets of his armor for anything of interest. When I found a key, my mind stopped being stupid and made the connection that the constant banging I was hearing was because of the bouncer, who my foe had mentioned locking in the closet.

I also found a folded paper on his body along with a few Septims, which I pocketed. Deciding the bouncer could wait, I unfolded the paper and started reading. Turned out the guy I killed was named Lynch, and that this paper was his order from someone with the initial S. I pocketed the note and finally walked over to the closet door with a leisurely pace and took my time unlocking and opening the door. Hey, I wasn't the one locked in there.

The bouncer, a big Orc fellow I had glimpsed before upon entering the inn, immediately stopped trying to break the door down and stared at me for a couple seconds before gathering himself, "About time someone showed up," he grumbled, crossing his large arms over his chest.

I tilted my head, "Perhaps I should have left the door locked…" I said in a tone that asked where my thank you was.

"Thanks," he muttered, "I've been locked in here for hours," yeah, probably while I was asleep. He should have banged louder to wake me up; not that it would have done him any good. "I'm the bouncer," yeah, I guessed, "Graman gro-Marad."

"Jo'Rawlith," I offered, seeing as it seemed no one would ever ask my name, so I may as well tell 'em whether they want to know or not.

He nodded slightly, then continued, "I don't know exactly what's going on, but not long ago, a gang of thieves calling themselves The Blackwater Brigands stormed the ship." You know, I just noticed how _huge_ this guy's fangs are. How in Oblivion is he even _talking_ through those things?

"They took myself and Ormil, the Float's owner, hostage and put her out to sea. I got no clue what they're after," he said gruffly, apparently agitated. Can't say I blame him, given the situation, but he doesn't have to take it out on _me_.

"If you can get me safely to the top deck, I can steer the Float home. But I'm not budging 'til the coast is clear," oh sure, some bouncer _you_ are. Too afraid to even fight a couple of thieves. Seriously, even _I_ beat one of these guys, they ain't _that_ tough.

"I'm used to dealing with drunken louts, not a gang of well-armed thieves," a likely excuse.

"Fine," I muttered, well, more like half-hissed, but ah well. He didn't seem fazed; why does it seem no one is ever fazed by my hissing?

"Good luck…you'll likely need it," this time my reaction was a full out hiss. Wonderfully grateful for my freeing you, buddy. I ought to lock you in that closet for real until you learn to be grateful.

But, seeing as he _was_ the one that would be getting this ship back to the dock, I decided to just turn on my furry heel and keep moving, dropping to a crouch to creep up to the next deck, doing my best to not limp from the cut on my foot; limping would not be helpful to my sneaking. At all.

I stopped before entering the main room on the inn deck, an arrow to my bow and a dark elf dressed much the same as the Nord in my sights. I didn't have any poison to work with, so I had little hope of a one hit kill, but if I just stayed hidden long enough for a couple of follow up shots, I'd drop this one _far_ easier than the Nord.

I loosed, and the Dunmer cried out in pain, then yanked her sword out and started looking around, too stupid to look in the direction the arrow had flown from. Another arrow to my bow, sight and loose. This time she noticed me and came at me, but another arrow to the string and loosed stopped her dead in her rush. Literally. Archery: the survival tool for the weak. Like me.

I moved further, glanced around, and found no others in this area. I crept back to the stairs and then called down, "This deck's clear!" I heard the bouncer grunt a reply, then his heavy footsteps on the stairs. As he came up, I stopped by the fallen thief and began to carefully search her belongings.

Two of my three arrows could be recovered; one was beyond hope. In addition, I added another meager amount of gold, and a key marked "Top Deck Key". Gee, I wonder where the door this one opens goes to?

Keeping my crouch, I moved towards a door at the top of a short stair case that looked to lead to the top deck, signaling the Orc where I was going and to stay quiet; I didn't need his heavy stomping walk to alert the next thief to my presence.

Not that it helped me. Soon as I stepped through the door, another big Nord fellow turns to me and, in that idiotic 'I can't count to two' voice, demands to know what I'm doing.

"I'm awaiting orders," I said, hoping to stall for time or avoid a fight altogether; bows didn't work in close quarters, as we were in now, and I didn't feel like taking another beating from a battle-raged Nord.

"Orders? Selene didn't tell me about this, and I don't remember her taking on someone else to help us find the Golden Galleon," the _what_, exactly? "When did all this happen?"

"Er, about three days ago, why?"

"Dang that woman! She promised a four part split when we recover the Golden Galleon. She never said anything about splitting it five ways!" Erm, five ways? Don't think so; try three. "She said when we got back to the safe house in Bravil, we would divide the loot after she fenced the dang thing. Do Lynch and Minx know about this?" Lynch was the first Nord, and I guessed Minx was the Dunmer. Yeah, about them…

"Uh, they're both kind of…dead?" I said, cringing at what I just _knew_ would be a bad reaction.

"Well, since they're out of the way, if I kill you, that means Selene and I split the take two ways. This heist is getting better and better!" Wow, he actually used some logic there. Maybe he ain't as dumb as I thought.

At this, however, he yanked out a sword identical to the ones the other two had used and immediately started swinging away at me. I dodged the first couple of swings, just barely, then smartly ran to the side and back, retreating so that I could half-jump, half-climb onto the roof of the boat's cabin. Ha! Can't touch this! (A/N ahem, don't mind me)

As he started jumping and trying to reach me, I retreated further out of range before taking the time to put an arrow to my bow string and start shooting. Each arrow just seemed to make him try harder, and after four arrows he was _still_ trying to get to me. A fifth put an end to that, though, as a particularly lucky shot dropped him with a particularly loud _thud_. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

I dropped lightly to the deck below and searched his body, retrieving my arrows, and finding some more gold and a key marked "Cabin". Hmm, wonder if it might open the ship's cabin…

I returned to the big Orc bouncer to tell him the good news that the wheel was now unguarded, "The path's clear, just as you asked. Care to get us back to dock now?"

"Nice work, I'll make my way up there. But this ship ain't moving an inch 'till Ormil's safe." Oh, course, we couldn't _ever_ just return to the waterfront and let the guards handle it. You got to send me on a mission to achieve more pain. Wonder-fricken-ful.

"Fine, fine, not like anyone _else_ is goin' to do it," I said pointedly. He just grunted and moved to go man the wheel. Sighing, I headed towards the only remaining door that I assumed would lead to the cabin.

I didn't bother sneaking, knowing it'd likely be no use, and sure enough, soon as I entered I was spotted, and an Imperial woman approached me and asked, "How'd you get in here?"

I glanced at the door. Perhaps through the only entrance there is? Or is that too much for you to grasp? At this point, I didn't have much respect for _anyone's_ intelligence.

"I took the key off one of the idiot Nords," I explained, talking a lot slower than was necessary.

"Wrath? I told him to guard the wheel and not talk to anyone! Who are you?" Wrath, ha, what a name for a Nord that moves like a fat horse!

"Oh, I'm just the ship's cook; couldn't you tell that from my clothes?" I didn't think she'd be hard to fool, especially with my respect level for her and her so-called gang. I could have perhaps acted interested in joining the gang or something like that, but the fact is that I wouldn't join this bunch of idiots if someone paid me too, so I doubted I'd be very convincing.

"There's no cook on the Bloated Float!" Crud. "How dare you try to make a fool of me!" Lady, I don't have to try, you do that yourself. "After I deal with you, I'll feed your body to the slaughterfish!" Ha, so we have one of Irony's henchmen! Trying to help the fish make a meal of a cat, are you?

She yanked out her sword, which was decidedly better than her gang members, seeing as it glowed lightly with enchantments, and started to attack me. I rolled out of the way and settled for bashing her upside the head with my cruddy iron bow. She stumbled just long enough for me to put an arrow to the string and into her. Ooh, that's _gotta _hurt, 'specially at that close range!

It didn't drop her, though, and she simply spun to attack me again. So began the pattern. She'd swing, I'd roll and bash her upside the head, then sink an arrow into her. And of course, she was too dense to realize what I was doing and so eventually I emerged victorious, with her looking like a human porcupine, and with minimal damage to me. Hey, I think I'm getting better at fighting in impossibly close quarters!

Before speaking with the Altmer, I recovered as many arrows as I could, getting only a few back; most were fired so close there was no way they were coming out again. I also pocketed a few more Septims. Then I snagged that pretty enchanted blade and strapped it hastily under my quiver. _Now_, I turned to the high elf owner of this Oblivion pit of a boat.

"Oh thank goodness!" he exclaimed before I could even open my mouth, "That horrid woman kept threatening me! She said if I didn't come up with the loot she'd throw me to the slaughterfish!" Did you fail to hear what she told _me_? I'm not surprised.

"So, what loot, exactly, are we talking about?" I asked, tilting my head. I still had no idea what was going on apart from the fact that the Brigands had set the boat to sea.

"Well," he started nervously. Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to want to strangle this guy by the time he finishes? "I'm afraid all of this was my fault. They hijacked the Bloated Float because of me. Business has been waning of late, so I invented a story." Oh do continue, I can tell this is going to be a _good_ one.

"I fashioned a tale about a 'Golden Galleon' that the previous owner hid within this very vessel. It was to be a statuette made completely of gold," you idiot. What kind of idiotic idea was that?! You idiot. How did you_ not_ guess something bad would happen?

"At the time, the idea was quite clever," oh yeah, _at the time_. Well, what about at _this_ time, eh? "I figured the lore would draw in more curiosity seekers and adventurers. What could the harm be if, while they were here, they bought a drink or two?" Wow, what a conniving, and yet idiotic, plan. "My business has increased quite a bit since I leaked the story," Gee, I wonder how many of those new customers were thieves hoping to get enough information rather than storming the place?

"Well, obviously, I was mistaken. It was a terrible idea!" No dip, Sherlock! "I'm just glad that no innocents were hurt; I wouldn't want to have their blood on my hands," I glanced at my many wounds which I had yet to taken the time to heal; guess I don't count as an innocent. Humph.

"Anyway, sorry to ramble. You better get below now and rest until we arrive safely at the Imperial City docks." I muttered plenty of Words Not to Say around Khajiits as I turned on my heel and headed back down to my room. Upon reaching my quarters, I took out my anger on the door by slamming it, _hard_, and then set about searching through my belongings for a healing potion. Just so happened I had none left, so I settled for chomping down on my stores of Cairn Bolete. If I knew what paper tasted like, I'd say this plant was a pretty good comparison; of course, I don't know what paper tastes like, so I was at a lack for a comparison of taste.

Grumbling, I placed my bow and quiver back on the table, hoping I would not repeat the earlier scenario, and crawled under the covers for some well earned rest. Many, _many_ hours later, I finally awoke, my wounds healed from the combination of rest and the Cairn Bolete, and my body fully rested. The ship was back to its light rocking, so I guessed we were docked, and wouldn't have doubted it if we had been so for quite a while, the way I sleep.

Climbing out of bed, I stretched lightly before grabbing up my bow and quiver, placing them both on my back. Set to go, I finally noticed the note that was sitting on the table and picked it up to read it.

_Jo'Rawlith-_

_We're docked back in the Imperial City. I would have told you personally, but you sleep like a rock, Khajiit. In any case, I'd like to thank you again personally, and reward you for the help you rendered, so please see me before leaving the ship. I'll be waiting in the inn cabin._

_-Ormil_

What, he actually _wants_ to reward me? I would've thought I'd have to drag a reward out of him, given how stuck-up his kind are. Ah well, less work for me, which is always good, especially given the work I've already had to do. Pocketing the note, I headed up to the inn deck and sought out tall-and-yellow.

There was one thing I noticed on the way up: the bodies were gone. Like, completely. Mess and all. No one would have suspected any fight had taken place at all. I made a mental note to ask Ormil what he had done with the bodies; I was remotely curious.

"You're awake, good," he said as I approached, "I was a little worried you had been hurt worse than I thought," oh yeah, I'm sure he was _so_ _worried_ about me. All he was probably worried about was me taking up space that he could be making money off. Humph. "I suppose you're wondering what I did with Selene?"

"Yeah, actually, I am," I said, tilting my head once again; I do that a lot, now that I think about it, guess it's just an instinct for us cats.

"The authorities of the city took her and her group off the ship as soon as we docked. I was also informed that there was a reward for her capture," ah, so the city took care of the bodies; bet he had to clean up after 'em though. Good, nice to know he can _at least_ do _that_ much.

"Here you go! Don't spend it all in one place… unless it's here, of course!" he said in this way too enthusiastic voice, handing me a bag of Septims. "The reward was 75 gold; it's all there, count it if you like," he said at my questioning glance. Well, that defiantly helps my funds at the moment. Perhaps staying on this Oblivion pit of a ship wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Pleasure doing business with you," I said with a smirk, and then turned to go as he burst out laughing. Honestly, it wasn't _that_ funny, elf. Nor was it _that_ true.

Out in the sun and on solid ground again, I felt much better, and completely ignored all the odd stares I kept receiving from people as I walked past on my way back to the Market District. For just this once, life was good.

And then I found the stores closed _again_. I hate this city.


	3. Chapter 3 I Need a Scapegoat

Disclaimer: Oblivion and all characters, ideas, etc. within it are all property of Bethesda and associated companies. It's on my Christmas wish list, though!

A/N: Well, this took far longer than it had too. I apologize for that, but if any of you actually take the time to read my profile, you'll know why. In any case, hopefully chapter four won't take nearly as long. Keep you fingers crossed!

**Chapter 3**

_I Need a Scapegoat_

I hate this city. There is absolutely no exception to this. I _hate_ this city. I have spent the last couple hours perched on the ground outside the bloody Copious Coinpurse waiting for whatever idiot runs this shop, earning the oddest looks from _every single person_ that walks by. I gave each and every one of 'em my best impression of a lioness; that is to say, once again, that I bared my fangs and hissed like there was no tomorrow.

This, of course, earned more unwanted attention from the stupid guards, who would slow down on their patrols every time they passed me, hardly paying any attention to anyone but _me_. And of course, my _wonderful friend_ Itius Hayne made a point of walking by a couple times, making sure to stare hard at me, giving me one of those 'I'm watching you' looks. You just keep on watching me; you're wasting your time and letting all the actual criminals sneak around without your attention. Stupid stereotyping guards. Even if this one _does_ have a bit of a reason to watch me. Humph.

After already examining all the crud I had with me and guessing at possible prices for each item I planned to sell, I had nothing to do now but to twiddle my thumbs. Such fun. _Finally_, however, this large knot of some merchant-looking types walked through the gate leading to the palace district and began to split off to their respective shops. I rose from the ground as this short Bosmer fellow headed towards the Coinpurse.

"About time," I muttered as he took out his keys and unlocked the door.

"But didn't you know? The shops in the Imperial City open promptly at 8 o'clock. It's always been like that," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well _excuse_ me for being new 'round here," I muttered, rolling my eyes; the sun's up at 6; these folk are wastin' daylight by opening at 8.

I followed the Bosmer into his shop and glanced around his shop while he set up behind his desk, moving stuff around and the like. He had a good bit of food here and there, some cloth and shoes, books and a good deal of other things scattered about. The place wasn't cluttered; it was too open to be. However, it seemed to have a large amount of a variety of items. Hopefully this _would_ be a one stop shopping trip.

"Now, what kind of deal can I make for you today?" he asked in that annoying voice that _every_ Bosmer has. Gosh it makes my ears hurt.

"I got stuff to sell and gotta buy some new stuff," I said simply.

"Well let's see it, then," he said as though this was what he was expecting.

I went about finding all the stuff I had to sell, fishing it out of pockets and such, and put it all out on his counter, including the pretty enchanted sword I had grabbed from the gang leader. Now, if I were him, I'd have been surprised that someone so horridly dressed had so much stuff to sell, but he didn't seem surprised in the least. That just didn't seem right to me.

What I was selling included some poor quality gems off the goblins, the short sword I snagged off the Blades captain, a couple of scrolls, and some potions that I would never use. He looked through the gems first, a frown on his face.

"Most of these are near worthless, but I can give you, say, 10 Septims each," he said, looking up at me.

Ten each? Oblivion, I wouldn't have given someone more than five for most of these! What kind of merchant _is_ this guy?!

"Fine by me," I said; I wasn't about to argue a price like that.

"So that would be…" he said, counting the gems, "100 Septims for the ten of them," he opened a box container on the counter and picked out a small bag that jingled with the sound of clanking Septims and handed it over, "Here you go." His voice is _way_ too cheery.

He looked at the scrolls next, glancing over both to see what they did, then said, "Hmm, ten more for this one and 25 for this one." Now, last _I_ checked, spell scrolls were worth a bit more than that.

"Ten Septims for a _scroll_? I thought you said you wanted to make me a deal. Or perhaps I should take them elsewhere?" I said, going to grab them from the desk.

"Oh no, that's not necessary!" he said _very_ quickly, "Okay, 15 for the first and 30 for the second, will that satisfy you?"

"I suppose it's doable," I muttered; acting as I was, I was sure he'd give me a better deal on the next items. He handed over a smaller bag of Septims after removing a few from it; guess it'd kill him to overpay me a few coins.

Now it was the potions' turn; five restore fatigues of various strengths and three restore magickas. The latter was actually worth something—restore magicka ingredients were rare—the former was not. I'd hardly pay at all for restore fatigue potions; it didn't take a master of alchemy to make them, especially not this quality.

"There's not much demand for fatigue potions, I'm sorry to say; shall we say three each for them?" I nodded; it was a better price than I'd give. Though I was _really_ starting to wonder how he stayed in business. "The magicka ones, however, I would give 20 each; they are in high demand at the moment." I saw my opportunity.

"Well then, if they're so needed, perhaps I should take them to a merchant who would better appreciate that need?"

"25, Khajiit, though it is more than I'd usually pay."

"Very well then," that netted me another bag; why didn't he just wait 'till we were done and give me one big bag? Or perhaps his memory span isn't long enough to remember the price of everything for that long…

"This short sword is only worth about ten Septims in it's condition,"

"Only ten? That's a fine steel blade!"

"My friend, I have to stay in business; the visit to the smith will cost me even more before I can sell this," he said defensively. Wait a minute; did he just call me his _friend_? Bosmer _must_ be the most annoying beings on all Nirn!

"Fair enough," I muttered; I knew it was the truth, but I wanted my Septims!

"Now then," he said, handing me another bag and then turning to look at the sword from the Blackwater Brigands, "this is a most interesting piece of work. What enchantment is on it?"

I hesitated; you think I actually checked what enchantment was on it? Though I suppose that would be an important bit of information… I carefully lifted the sword and examined the red gleam along the length of the metal. It was a fine steel blade with intricate work along the hilt; probably what caught the Bosmer's eye, but that wasn't what I was looking at.

Now, I had been trained as a Witchhunter, and, being mages, Witchhunters are trained to recognize what enchantments are active on an item. But I was never any good at it. My strength comes with the bow; I can't aim a spell to save my life and I never was good at the rest of the magic. I just barely got by in my training as far as that went. So I couldn't for the life of me figure out what this blade was enchanted with. I briefly considered suggesting I cut him and find out _that_ way, but decided against it.

"I'm not exactly sure," I said quietly, staring at the sword.

"There's a staff shop here in the district; the mage there should be able to tell you; but don't you go selling it to him!" He said and laughed at what he _thought_ was a good joke. I fake chuckled.

"I will go ask him, then," I said, strapping the sword back in its place under my quiver.

"Thank you very much for you business, my good Khajiit," he said as I turned to go; I waved my hand in recognition without even looking back. I think my ears are going to start bleeding soon.

Now, when the little Bosmer man said that the shop was right here in the district, I figured it'd be easy to find. _Apparently_, however, I have _no_ sense of direction. At all. The district ain't even that big, and I still spent what must have been half an hour looking for this bloody shop. I must've passed the same smith shop five times before I thought to look across the street from it. And lo and behold, there it was! Rindir's Staffs! By Jode and Jone, S'Rendarr must hate me! **1**

"You're in Rindir's Staffs. And I'm Rindir. I sell magical staffs. Imagine that," I cringed upon entering as the little Bosmer man behind the corner gave his little welcome speech in a bored tone. I could have sworn this was Cyrodiil, and _not_ Valenwood…

"I was told you could tell me what enchantment is on this," I said, dropping the sword on the counter with a rather loud clang, causing the Bosmer to jump about half a foot. I grinned, showing far more teeth than necessary.

Regaining his composure, the Bosmer stepped back up to the counter and picked up the sword, studying the faint enchanted glow it gave off. His brow furrowed for a moment before he finally looked from the sword back to me.

"It's a very simply enchantment, a lower quality absorb fatigue on strike spell, but given the quality of the sword as well as the enchantment, I'd be willing to pay about 200 Septims for it; that is, if you're looking to sell?" Since when does a staff shop buy swords? Eh, given his bored tone earlier, perhaps he's just looking for some excitement. Too bad I can't help him; I know another little Bosmer man I could sell to for a higher price.

"No, I'm not looking to sell at the moment; I simply wished to know what I had found," I said, replacing the sword under my quiver.

"Oh," he said, looking rather disappointed. I almost felt sorry for him. _Almost_ being the key word there. "But perhaps you are interested in buying? My last customer threw in some fine robes with our bargain, and they just happen to be for sell, very cheap," he said, giving an obvious hint that I needed better clothes. Hey, if it saves me another stop, then…

"I'll take a look, sure."

His face brightened considerably at the prospect of business as he reached under the counter and brought out some relatively nice looking red robes. He handed them over the counter to me and I unfolded them to get a better look. It felt like silk, and was trimmed in some gold fabric here and there. They seemed to be one of those one-size-fits-all robes, but they weren't far off. And hey, I was pretty desperate.

"How much?" I asked, setting my gaze on the Bosmer.

"I could let them go for 15 Septims to such a fine citizen as yourself," he said, a wide grin on his face.

"I'll take them," I said, setting them on the counter to count the coins; I wasn't keen on bargaining right now, I just wanted to get away from all these bloody annoying Bosmer with their stupid flattery.

"Thank you for your patronage," he said as I handed over the coins.

I nodded, folded the robes, turned, and left without another word. Now to sell this sword to the other happy Bosmer man and find a smith for some better weaponry; if that was possible.

I was careful to situate the robes around my quiver so that they wouldn't fall, and so that poor Bosmer number one didn't realize I had indeed taken some of my business elsewhere. His face lit up like a bonfire when I entered his shop again; I cringed slightly.

"Ah, my favorite customer has returned. What did Rindir say?" he asked in that still ever-so-annoying voice of his.

I pulled the sword free and set it on the counter once again before speaking, "He said that it had a very fine absorb fatigue on strike enchantment, and combined with the quality of the sword, it'd be worth no less than 400 Septims, but I'd be willing to part with it for 300," so what if I _might_ have exaggerated a _little_?

"Really?" he asked, taking the sword in his hands with this look on his face that said 'I'm going to scam this customer and sell this for twice it's worth'. I made a note to get far away from the city before he found out who scammed who.

"Oh yes," I said, "a fine piece of craftsmanship, don't you agree?"

He was practically drooling over the sword by now, "And you'll let this go for 300?"

I nodded.

"My friend, you have a deal!" he exclaimed, grabbing three good sized bags from his money box and tossing them over, carefully placing the sword beneath the counter where it couldn't be stolen. "Now, is there anything else I can help you with today?"

I glanced around his shop; didn't seem to be anything else, but there were some moccasins that looked as though they'd be far better than these stupid sandals, especially for sneaking. "How much for those?" I asked, pointing to where they sat near the counter.

"For you? 2 Septims, my friend," I glanced at the sandals I wore, wondering if he'd trade for them.

"How about a trade? These sandals are still in fine condition…"

"Of course, my friend," he said; how did this guy not notice the horrid smell and obviously horrid quality of these things? Ah well, his loss. I slid the sandals off and set them on the counter, grabbing the moccasin and putting them on instead; ah, _much_ better.

"Anything else?" he asked when I looked back to him. I glanced around. Nothing, zip, nada.

"No, not today," I said simply.

"Alright, my friend, come again soon." Ha, not after you find out what that sword is really worth! I turned and left without another word, planning to head to the smith across from Rindir's.

…Except I still have absolutely no sense of direction and spent another ten minutes trying to find it before I finally stumbled upon it. And little did I realize that this was the _armor_ shop, not the _weapon_ shop. I was told this in no uncertain terms by the rather rude Redguard fellow in steel armor while the Imperial guy in chain mail snickered. I turned and left, not even bothering to fill their ears with colorful Ta'Agra. I hate this city.

I all that, neither one of them managed to point me to where the actual weapons shop was, so another half hour went into looking for it. By now, it was starting to get dark, so when I finally did find it, I rushed inside before it had a chance to bloody close. I was _not_ spending another day in this Oblivion pit of a city.

"Welcome to 'A Fighting Chance'. I'm Rohssan, proprietor," I was greeted by an aging Redguard lady this time. At least it wasn't another Bosmer.

I slid my rusty bow off my back and set in on the counter, "Do you have anything of better quality than this?" I asked; I didn't particularly care what quality my next bow was, just as long as it was better than this piece of junk.

"I just got in a new shipment of perfect condition iron bows. Not a speck of rust on any of them," she said, noting the red coloring of my bow.

"How much for one if I was to trade this one and some Septims?"

She lifted the bow and looked it over for a while before answering, "15 Septims and this and one of the new ones is yours," she said finally, setting the bow back down.

"Deal," I said, and dug out another 15 Septims as she picked the bow off the rack from behind the counter. All things considered, this one didn't look like it would be too different; but at least my hands would not turn red upon use of this one. That done, I took my shiny new bow and left; now to find my way back to the Bloated Float.

Upon further consideration, I decided against finding my way back to the Bloated Float. Perhaps it was the thought of another wild adventure; or maybe just the fact that lo and behold there was an inn on solid ground right next to the smith I had just left. My S'Rendarr doesn't hate me that much after all!

So here I find myself, feasting on a nice selection of foods in a rather spacious room with a _real_ bed. It was pretty spacious, with a chest, cabinet, desk, and table with a nice meal laid out for the convenience of the customer. All things considered, 20 gold for one night of this luxury definitely wasn't bad. And seeing as the chances of this inn being taken out to sea were nothing, I was pretty happy. Despite the fact that my time in this city was a _lot _longer than it needed to have been, I was content that tomorrow morning, bright and early, I'd be setting out for a hopefully better city.

Bright and early in the morning, while everyone still slept despite the fact the sun was shining, I left the Merchant's Inn to start my delayed journey to Weynon Priory. Dressed now in my new robes with a shiny bow and not too shabby quiver full of arrows on my back, I managed to make it out of the city with no further mishaps; the only strange look I earned coming from a certain Itius Hayne, whom I guessed was wondering where these robes had come from. Honestly, does that guy _ever_ sleep? Or is he just stalking me?

I even managed to not get lost, and the day was still young by the time I made it to the Chestnut Handy Stables outside the city, with their every so nice selection of horses I had earlier noticed and actually not forgotten. I needed a horse if I was heading all the way to Chorrol. Looking around, I noticed two women, an Orc and Imperial, talking amongst the horses and approached them, hoping one of them could sell me one of these fine horses.

"Hail," I said, "I'm looking…"

"Yeah. Restita Statlilia. I work at the Chestnut Handy Stables. Have you seen our horses wandering around?" the Imperial said before I could continue. I shook my head in a negative, "No? Okay. It's just that they're missing…" …Okay then…

"Yeah, I'm looking to buy a horse…" She cut me off again.

"We stable horses for folks in the Imperial City. We'd sell horses, too. Except… we can't seem to keep track of them." I tilted my head, one of my ears flicking to one side briefly.

"They're all gone? Every last one?" somehow I didn't think this likely.

"As I said, we can't keep track of them." Then she turned away to tend to the many, many horses that surrounded us. These could not _possibly_ all be just stabled here, so I decided to try my luck with the Orc.

"I'm looking to buy a horse," I said, dropping any formalities in my growing annoyance. It had looked like such a wonderful day, too.

"The Chestnut Handy Stables used to sell horses. But they're gone. Our horses. All gone. Big mystery. No idea where they went," she sounded incredibly shifty as she said this, and I was all the more suspicious when she failed miserably to hide a burp. Orcs and horses didn't mix well last I checked…

"Did you…eat them, by any chance?" I asked, tilting my head. I wasn't sure I wanted to know, by curiosity was simply killing my cat (ahem).

"Oh, just add some onion and…" she paused after starting so eagerly, seemingly realizing what she was saying, "wait. I almost walked into that one," she muttered, "No, of course not. That would be wrong. You shouldn't eat horses!" she said, desperately trying to cover up for herself. Yep, I think it's pretty safe to say that the so-called 'big mystery' was solved. And people wonder why no one likes Orcs. Ha!

"Of course," I said in this voice that really seemed to say 'I don't believe you for a second', smiled slightly, once again showing more teeth than necessary, then promptly turned on my heal and stalked off. Grass is decidedly better material for stomping on that the Imperial City's stone.

Okay, so my luck killed over dead already. Guess that'll teach me to expect a day _might_ just be a good day for once in my horrid life. So, no horse. That meant I would be walking _all the way_ to Chorrol to see this bloody Jauffre. And I got ten Septims that say that won't be the end of it. So, being in absolutely _no_ hurry to make it to Weynon Priory, I walked leisurely across the enormous bridge that connected the City Isle to the mainland. Gee, you think they made it big enough?

As I crossed through the small settlement at the other side, I took my shiny new bow in my hands and rested an arrow on the string before following the ancient, moldy signs in the direction to Chorrol. With the wonderful luck I had already had this morning, how much longer did you really think I would go without finding more trouble?

As I expected, not very long. Since when did the Imperial Legion guards do such a horrid job clearing the paths of bandits? Heading uphill with a rather large boulder to block my sight, it was every so slightly too late when I realized he was there: one bandit with a war hammer half his bloody size. I got off two shots before he reached me, but it wasn't enough to drop him. As I expected, this bow was just a much junk as the last one.

One staggering blow from that hammer was all it took to knock me flat and let me know I'd best not take any more of those hits. I staggered back up as the Redguard prepared for another hit; thank goodness that thing was so heavy, because it definitely gave me the advantage of speed. Running, well, more like quickly staggering, backwards, I managed to get off another two shots before he could reach me again, and this time, because I was smart enough to keep moving, I dropped him before taking another blow from that thing.

Panting, I crouched by the bandit's body to search it. And it was at this point that I realized that, having the shoddy memory that I do, I had forgotten to buy more health potions. Brilliant! I settled for more Cairn Bolete to handle the rather large bruise forming from that hammer; but it merely dulled the pain; I'd definitely be feeling that in the morning.

Upon inspection, the only thing worth taking from the bandit was two of my arrows that I could manage to recover. The war hammer might be worth something, but there was no way in Nirn or Oblivion I was going to lug that thing all the way to Chorrol.

So, that settled, I continued on; however, this time, I decidedly went more carefully; these guys travel in packs more often then not, and if he happened to have a friend, I definitely didn't feel like taking another blow from another stupid war hammer. Or anything else. Thank you, very much.

As I moved on upwards the path, I passed an Imperial Legion soldier casually patrolling the path, and muttered quite a few colorful words under my breath. Oh, you couldn't possibly move any faster, could you? You couldn't have just, I don't know, arrived about five seconds earlier to help dispatch that bandit, of course not. Why would anyone want to do something that could be so easily forced on me?

Good thing I had continued onward so cautiously, because not very far after that I spotted my next meal: a deer a little ways up the path that had failed to notice me yet. I halted immediately and put another arrow to my string, drawing and sighting carefully. It flew true; the only problem was, my bow is a piece of junk. That thing took that arrow like it was nothing more than a thorn, caught sight of me, turned and ran.

Cursing as quietly as I could, I moved to give chase, but decided that sneaking would still be my best bet. If S'Rendarr was in a giving mood, the deer would stop once it felt safe, and hopefully another arrow would actually kill it. I also realized at this point that I had also failed to buy poisons, or to make any. That would have really helped me; but of course, with my horrid memory, I was without such luxuries.

As I topped the next rise, however, I quickly lost interest in the deer. By Jode and Jone that's a big fort. And right in the middle of the path too. My fur stood on end as I realized I was either to pass through it, or try to go around it. And after my escapades in the city and recent realization that I have_ no_ sense of direction, I decided against risking getting lost in the woods. So that meant risking whatever had decided to inhabit the crumbling old structure. Bandits and wolves and imps, oh my!

Fur standing full on end, I tensed with an arrow to the string of my bow and began to slowly creep through the crumbling arched doorway to the fort, hoping to kill anything inside without ever being seen. Too my immense surprise, the fort was empty; at least on the outside part, and from the stories I had heard, there wasn't anything that was going to make me head inside the fort.

Feeling slightly better, I relaxed and began to move a bit quicker onwards towards Chorrol, passing through another arched doorway on the other side of the fort to come back out into the open. No sooner had I done this than did a scowling Khajiit fellow coming running up to me, his hand on the mace at his belt, ready to attack with it at a moment's notice.

"Your money, or your life," he hissed, looking me up and down; either this was because I was a female of his race, or because of the fine robes I wore that suggested that I actually had money. In any case, I really didn't care. At the moment, I was having a cruddy enough day; my feet were starting to hurt, I had just lost my meal, and I still knew that I would likely find no relief in Chorrol. And on top of all that, here this guy was, adding to my problems. And you know what? I'd had enough.

"You do, of course, realize, my good sir, that you have indeed caught me on a _very_ bad day?" I said in that same 'I'm about five seconds from exploding' voice I had used on that stereotyping Redguard. This caught him off guard, and he didn't answer. "I have just had a horrible stay in that Oblivion pit that is the Imperial City, and on top of that I now have to _walk_ all the way to Chorrol because some Orcs just can't seem to control themselves.

"And as if that weren't enough, _everyone_ I have thus far met has suspected me to be a thief. Do you know way that is?" I paused here; he was still stunned and for a moment didn't respond, but when he realized I was _obviously_ waiting for an answer, he slowly shook his head, probably worried he had just run into a crazy person. "No? Well you should," I said in a rather belittling voice as though it were the most obvious answer on Nirn.

"Everyone seems to think I'm a thief precisely because of despicable Khajiits like you!" I shouted suddenly, causing him to take a quick, shuffled step back. "_You_ are the precise reason why everyone stereotypes our race as law-breakers and thieves! _You_ are the reason why we few honest Khajiit are given such a hard time! In addition to causing this, now you all of a sudden expect me to _pay_ you?!" he was staring wide-eyed at me now; my guess is he never expected _anyone_ to have such an outburst. Well, you know what? Too bad!

"I just spent the last two days trying to make any money at all and here you come expecting every honest, hard-working person to just hand over their Septims to you, just because you have a weapon! Well, here you go, _sir_, I do hope you are proud of yourself!" I finished, throwing one of the bags of Septims the Bosmer had given me at him, then stalking off in a rage of muttered words that I knew very well he'd understand.

I felt his still-widened gaze on my back as I stalked angrily down the path; I had no way of knowing what he was thinking, but one could only hope that my outburst would make him think twice before robbing the next poor civilian that came through here. In any case, it had definitely made me feel better to have nothing stopping me from speaking my mind. I failed to realize that I had effectively made that Highwayman my current scapegoat.

The rest of the trip was actually quite peaceful. I think my continued rant and constant stomping must've scared off anything that might have seen me as a prospective dinner. I did earn a _very_ strange look from another Imperial Legion soldier, but at this point I really didn't care. All I wanted was to reach the stupid Priory, give the Blade Grandmaster the amulet, and be done with it. Of course, I still had that nagging feeling that I would by no means be done with it so easily, which, of course, did absolutely nothing to help my mood. That nagging feeling probably came from the fact that the Emperor had told me also to find his son, but I had completely forgotten that. Remember my faulty memory?

It was growing late in the day when I finally reached Chorrol. I passed a farm and another establishment on the way, but neither were marked by any name, so I had no way of telling if either was of importance. So I decided to brilliantly save time by continuing straight to the city to find wherever this Weynon Priory was. Of course, it was a brilliant plan until the guard standing outside the city gate told me I had just passed Weynon Priory. I'm not _even_ going to comment.

Muttering, and likely causing a very amusing scene for anyone who cared, I turned and walked back to the large establishment the guard had said was Weynon Priory. I finally silenced my muttered Ta'Agra rant before I entered, deciding that it probably wasn't the best idea to enter this place and present myself not only as some random Khajiit, which couldn't be helped, but also as a muttering, very angry, and decidedly strange Khajiit. I also put my bow on my back; no need to look threatening, I suppose.

Upon entering what I assumed to be the main building—judging by size, mind you—I was immediately greeted by your classic monk: some guy in simple dark robes with the ring of hair that was the generalized monk hairstyle.

"Yes? Can I help you?" he questioned.

"I was told to speak with some guy named Jauffre," I said; he frowned slightly, likely from my disrespectful tone, but I could _really_ care less at the moment.

"He's upstairs, go ahead," he said finally, gesturing towards the right side of the split upstairs.

I nodded and moved on, not bothering to say anything else as he returned to whatever it was I had interrupted him from doing. There, reading behind a rather large table that served as a desk in a relatively neat and empty room, was who I assumed to be Jauffre. So engrossed in his reading was he that he didn't even notice my approach until I stopped right in front of him and tapped a hand against the wood to get his attention.

"I'm brother Jauffre, what do you want?" he asked with a scowl, setting the book on his lap with a finger holding his place as though he expected this to not take very long at all.

"The Emperor sent me to find you," I said rather simply.

"Emperor Uriel? Do you know something about his death?" he asked, obviously more interested now as he put the book on the desk and gave me his full attention.

"I was there when he died," I started, but was unable to continue as he interrupted.

"You'd better explain yourself. Now," He said, rather forcefully for a man of his age, too.

"I would if you wouldn't interrupt me," I muttered; I was in no mood to be polite and proper. He gave me quite a withering glare that made me continue a bit more carefully, however, "He gave me the Amulet of Kings."

"_You_ brought me the Amulet of Kings? This cannot be. Let me see it," he said; I sighed in annoyance and handed it over from where I had placed it in one of the pockets of this robe. "By the Nine! This _is_ the Amulet of Kings!"

"Could have told you that…" I muttered and, in response, he glared again.

"Who are you? How did you get this? What do you know of the Emperor's death?" he assaulted me with questions rather rapidly.

"If I may speak without being interrupted?" I asked mildly, he glared for a while, then sighed in resignation and nodded for me to continue. I calmly explained the events that had taken place in and beneath the Imperial City Prison, most of the forgotten details coming back to now. Including the fact that I wasn't done, even now the Amulet was in Jauffre's hands. There was still the matter of the Emperor's lost son. Crud. Jauffre spent a moment frowning before finally responding.

"As unlikely as your story sounds," he said, rather pointedly, "I believe you. Only the strange destiny of Uriel Septim could have brought you to me carrying the Amulet of Kings," he said, then looked to me expectantly, as if he expected me to talk. Wonder-fricken-ful.

"So, who's this Prince of Destruction he mentioned?" I asked finally.

"The Prince of Destruction he referred to is none other than Mehrunes Dagon, one of the lords of the demonic world of Oblivion." Fascinating. "The Emperor's words—'Close shut the jaws of Oblivion'—certainly suggest that he perceived some threat from Oblivion." Oh, lovely.

"But all the scholars agree that the mortal world is protected from the daedra of Oblivion by magical barriers." Oh, so just because the scholars say something, they can't be wrong? Oh, then we shouldn't have to worry about anything, then. Guessing this was his opinion, I decided to ask my next question.

"How can Oblivion threaten us then?" there was the slightest hint of a challenge in my voice; I think he picked up on it, too, which must have been why he sounded so defeated with his answer.

"I'm not sure. Only the Emperors truly understand the meaning behind the rituals of coronation," he paused briefly, looking at the amulet in his hands, "The Amulet of Kings is ancient. Saint Alessia herself received it from the gods. It is a holy relic of great power. When an Emperor is crowned, he uses the Amulet to light the Dragonfires at the Temple of the One in the Imperial City. With the Emperor dead and no new heir crowned, the Dragonfires in the Temple will be dark, for the first time in centuries. It may be that the Dragonfires protected us from a threat that only the Emperor was aware of." Wow, and not one single interruption through that entire speech. Amazing how I did that.

"The Emperor asked me to find his son," I said finally when he looked expectantly at me again.

"I am one of the few who know of his existence. Many years ago, I served as captain of Uriel's bodyguards, the Blades," he paused, his gaze faraway, probably remembering, "One night Uriel called me in to his private chambers. A baby boy lay sleeping in a basket. Uriel told me to deliver him somewhere safe. He never told me anything else about the baby, but I knew it was his son. From time to time he would ask about the child's progress," he paused, considering something, and then finally said, "Now it seems that this illegitimate son is the heir to the Septim Throne. If he yet lives."

"Where can I find him?" I asked, slightly impatient. I was none to happy about still not being done with this matter.

"His name is Martin. He serves Akatosh in the Chapel in the city of Kvatch, south of here. You must go to Kvatch and find him at once. If the enemy is aware of his existence, as seems likely, he is in terrible danger," and what about me, eh? Why does no one care about what danger they put _me_ in? "And please, let me know if there's anything you need. My resources here are limited, but I will help in any way I can," I probably should give him credit for that much, but I'm in too foul a mood to do so.

"How about some supplies then?" I asked, as though he should have known I'd need them.

"I keep a few things here in my chest to re-supply traveling Blades. Help yourself to whatever you need," he said, getting up and moving to unlock the chest before he returned to his desk. When I turned my attention to the chest, I saw him resume his reading out the corner of my eye. I do hope that is a _very_ interesting book.

Looking through his chest, I found a set of a steel bow and quiver full of steel arrows, and nearly jumped for joy as I snatched them from the chest. These looked to be _far_ better than the horrid iron junk I currently had. Deciding not to waste the time trying to sell either, I placed both my iron bow and quiver of iron arrows in the chest; they likely weren't worth the trouble of lugging around. In there place, I put both steel bow and quiver on my back, now in a considerably better mood.

Searching the rest of the chest, I found a supply of potions which I grabbed greedily; the health potions would be of great use, the rest I'd just sell. Hey, he ain't using them. I also snagged a scroll that would hopefully fetch a pretty price. As I closed the chest, life was good.

Then I remembered that I was about to have to _walk_ all the way to Kvatch, find some priest, and then _walk_ all the way back. I hate this province.

**1. **As told by wikipedia's article on the Khajiit, Jode and Jone are the Khajiit moon gods, and S'Rendarr is the Khajiit god of mercy. Who apparently has no mercy for poor Jo'Rawlith.


End file.
